Once upon a time, there was a woman who borrowed a Cook’s Illustrated magazine from the library. In it was a recipe for popovers. The popovers looked good, she thought, but there was a problem: she didn’t have a proper popover pan. But then, a couple weeks later, she came across a popover pan at the thrift store. She bought the pan, went home, and made popovers. They turned out perfectly, just as the magazine said they should: custardy on the inside, crispy on the outside. The woman and her family (and a visiting friend) ate their perfectly proper popovers with plenty of butter and a spot of jam, no problem. The end.

Popovers
Adapted from the January-February 2021 issue of Cook’s Illustrated magazine.

If you can’t find a popover pan at your thrift store, a regular muffin tin will do.

6 ¾ ounces bread flour
¾ teaspoon salt
1 ½ cups milk, heated to about 115 degrees
3 eggs

Butter the bottom and sides of the muffin tin and then, with a wadded-up napkin, wipe out any excess — you want enough grease to keep the batter from sticking but not so much that the batter can’t adhere to the sides and rise properly. 

Stir together the bread flour and salt. Whisk in the milk and eggs. Divide the batter evenly between the six tins — each tin will be about three-fourths full. 

Bake at 400 degrees for about 45 minutes — do not open the oven during the first 30 minutes. Serve hot, with lots of butter. Leftovers can be bagged and stored at room temp. To reheat, place directly on the rack of a 300-degree oven (I use my toaster oven) for 5-10 minutes. 

This same time, years previous: chicken shawarma, the quotidian (5.20.19), sautéed lambsquarters with lemon, after one year: Costco reflections, the quotidian (5.19.14), the quotidian (5.20.13), up at the property, rhubarb streusel muffins, caramel cake, the boring blues.

We got a second calf! Or my younger daughter did, anyway. This calf will be her project, so she was responsible for tracking down farmers and sending queries. She finally found a farm on the other side of the county with newborns for sale, and last week she and my husband and son went to pick it up.

They weren’t well prepared (no surprise there): the calf shat all over the back of the van — aka the newly named Shitmobile — and they had to pull over and wrap the wriggly critter in tarp. 

She’s a cross — between which breeds, we’re not sure — and totally adorbs, with her turned-up nose and big brown eyes. My daughter named her Butterscotch.

We weren’t at all sure that Daisy would let the new calf nurse, so the first evening after my son finished milking, we put the calf in with her. With Daisy restrained, the calf nursed fine, and Daisy didn’t seem all that bothered.

And then the very next day, the kids saw the calf nursing on its own!

We’re still continuing to bring Butterscotch in after milking time to make sure she gets a chance to eat. But half the time she’s not even interested so we’re guessing she’s getting plenty throughout the day. Also, her pee is plentiful and clear so she’s obviously hydrated.

With a second calf, it means that we’ll soon be able to nix the evening milking altogether, and eventually we’ll be able to skip morning milkings, too, should we decide to go somewhere or take a break: we’ll just leave them together overnight and the calves will be able to keep up with the supply on their own. Also, a cow-fed calf means my daughter gets to raise an animal pretty much for free, which is nice.

This same time, years previous: flying, flashfloods, and fireballs, rocking the house, pinned, chocolate peanut butter sandwich cookies, the quotidian (5.18.15), help, a burger, a play, and some bagels, my favorite things, strawberry spinach salad.

Cook’s Illustrated recently ran a little blurb about how xanthan gum keeps things like salad dressings and smoothies and homemade yogurt creamy and emulsified, and it eliminates the ice crystals in homemade ice cream, so I followed their directions to make a little of it (I had some in the freezer leftover from my husband’s brief foray into the world of gluten-free eating) into a gel: two cups of water whirled in the blender with one tablespoons of xanthan gum. Almost immediately, it transformed into a snot-like viscus mass which I transferred to a jar and stored in the fridge.

Now I just add a teaspoon or so to anything that needs a boost of creaminess. So far, this has only included ice cream and fruit sauce — I’m hardly an expert — but still, that counts, right? The gloop is weird and mildly creepy, but, best I can tell, it shouldn’t kill us. (I hope.)

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Every time I hear the intro to Schitt’s Creek or see one of the characters or hear a reference, it’s like I’ve been injected with a shot of joy. I start grinning and can’t stop; I feel like a fool — I know I look like a fool — but I’m too happy to care. 

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I found a hair product that works! When my hair is still sopping wet, I massage a couple generous squirts into my hair (for some reason, I’ve always felt like product makes hair gross, but that is not the case!), scrunch thoroughly, and then let it air dry. For years, I haven’t touched my hair with a brush, but now I also not longer even pick it out. Instead, each morning I wet my hair with fistfuls of water, do a comb-through with my fingers, and work in just a touch of product.

The curls are loving it.

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I recently came across this girl and promptly fell down a rabbit hole listening to all her songs. I kept feeling like she reminded me of something, and then I realized: The Commitments! What a kid.

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With one of the 30+ horses that she’s in charge of this week.

We’re going on a family vacation!!! To Massachusetts, of course, to see our daughter, and New Hampshire to visit my husband’s brother’s family, then on up to Maine to stay at a friend’s place and do all the exotic Mainey things like boat around a cove and eat lobster rolls and dig for clams and visit quaint bakeries. The last couple days, we’ll head back to Boston where we’ll go whale watching — when I told my daughter about the whale watching she was like, “Seriously? We’re going to go on a vacation and do touristy things like a normal family?!” — and take in the city sights. If you knows of any off-the-beaten-trail gems (food! hikes! little coves! etc), tell me! 

This same time, years previous: the coronavirus diaries: week ten, the quotidian (5.13.19), the quotidian (5.14.18), driving home the point, Captain Morgan’s rhubarb sours, crock pot pulled venison, people watching and baby slinging.